


Ask Box Fic #2

by SaSaCo



Series: Ask Box Fics Archive [2]
Category: Three Days Grace (Band)
Genre: Archived From Tumblr, Archived From sasaco-fics Blog, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 20:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaSaCo/pseuds/SaSaCo
Summary: "Adam and Brad have to share a hotel bed, but Brad can’t seem to fall asleep." Written by anonymous.*Saved and posted to Ao3 as an archival piece. SaSaCo is not the writer. If you are the writer and would like this piece removed, please comment here or send us a message on Tumblr at sasaco-fics.





	Ask Box Fic #2

The hotel is out of rooms; Brad and Adam have to share a bed. Brad won’t stop moving around. Adam ends up smacking him across the back. And Brad is still for five minutes, before he starts shifting again. Adam groans and reaches across the double bed they’re in, grabbing his bunk-mate and hauling him close, arms wrapping around the smaller frame of the other man. Brad instantly stills as Adam whispers against his ear, “Hold still, go to sleep, or I’m going to knock you out, so help me God.” Brad swallows thickly, the sudden proximity of Adam’s body making this a thousand times more difficult. Now his entire body was thrumming with nervous energy, itching all over and tingling, like he was a live wire and Adam was just feeding him more and more juice every place they touched.

Brad focuses on his breathing, remembering his first panic attack at his first show, and how Neil had helped him through it with deep breathing and meditation exercises. Breathe in… Breathe out… Breathe in… Breathe out… It was working a little bit, but with each breath in, Brad seemed to notice how Adam’s hand felt, solid and warm, pressed against his chest. With each breath out, the arm around his waist shifted just slightly, sending worn cotton fabric slipping over his skin.

Brad flushes when he realizes that his body was reacting. This wasn’t good… But as Brad realized that Adam had broken his own rule about ‘sides of the bed’, he began to relax into the hold around his waist. His body slowly grew heavier, and he found himself pushing back into the embrace, scooting back further into the warmth Adam’s body provided, the cool autumn night leaving everyone just slightly chilly in boxer shorts, t-shirts, and thin hotel blankets tossed on top.

The arm around his waist tightens and there’s a surprised grunt from behind him, forcing Brad to stop his minute adjustments of his body. “Brad?” Adam queries, voice even deeper than before. 

Brad flushes slightly, the warmth pooling even hotter in his low belly. “Yeah, Adam?” He croaks, as quietly as possible. 

“…You need to stop that,” Adam rasps, his lips brushing over the back of Brad’s neck, sending tiny thrills up the smaller man’s spine, making the hair all over his body stand on end.

Brad shifts back once again, feeling something hard press against his ass. He licks his lips and turns his head, looking back at Adam in the dark. “…Or what?” He asks, deadpan so effective Adam’s eyes flare wide in the dim light. 

Adam swallows hard and slides his hand down the other’s chest, across flat planes of stomach that quiver under his fingertips, stopping at the edge of Brad’s boxers. “Or I’ll make you…” Adam counters, shifting his hips to press himself against Brad’s ass.

The man whimpers, actually whimpers, and Adam’s body responds without his permission, hips jerking forward at the sound, a low growl slipping through his lips. “Adam…” Brad whispers as he tries to turn around, only to be caught by the singer’s arms. 

“No,” Adam hisses, and leans in to press their foreheads together, breathing harder as his hand slides lower, cupping other man over his boxers, making Brad’s breath hitch in his throat. “It’s okay Brad… I’ll help you sleep…” Adam whispers, and leans in to swallow the man’s reply, silencing him with a long over due kiss.

Across the room, Neil stares at the wall, wide-eyed, his back to his band mates, a pillow (or two) wrapped around his head, arms holding it in place, while a mantra races through his mind. “Remember the ear plugs Neil, he said… Don’t worry Adam, I got them, I said…”


End file.
